Now where are you going, Mick Collins? they said,Now where are you going? said they.I am going to Cork to settle
this warThat is leading this country astray, -stray -stray,That is leading this country astray.

Then take a convoy of lorries, they said,And a Crosley-tender so fastAnd a scout to search for Republican menWho
will ambush you as you go past, past, past,Who will ambush you as you go past.

A scout and a lorry behindAnd a Crossley-tender betweenThey sheltered him safely to Cork it is trueBut returning
they weren't any screen, screen, screen,But returning they weren't any screen, screen, screen.

There were six men waiting at Beál-na-BlathWell furnished with rifles and leadOh who is the officer fallen and
pale?'Tis Mick Collins that no one wished dead, dead, dead,'Tis Mick Collins that no one wished dead, dead, dead.

They took him up and carried him homeAnd he lies in a Soldier's plot,And men who fought each other deploreThe
hour that Mick Collins was shot, shot, shot,The hour that Mick Collins was shot.